• anshikajverma 10w

    I saw it's face soaked
    With tears of what it sees.
    It oozes with squeaking cries,
    It must be hard to hold up
    With all those cracks
    And fake plasters.
    Being a ceiling isn't easy
    Protecting with yours at stake
    Looking fine even after
    hundreds of years
    Of being vulnerable
    To all that happened in its presence
    It must be hurting so much
    Knowing it's destiny
    To end up being nothing but ruins.